943. 7s. M. Bowring.

Morning or Evening.--All from God.

1Father! thy paternal care

Has my guardian been, my guide!

Every hallowed wish and prayer

Has thy hand of love supplied;

Thine is every thought of bliss,

Left by hours and days gone by;

Every hope thy offspring is,

Beaming from futurity.

2Every sun of splendid ray;

Every moon that shines serene;

Every morn that welcomes day;

Every evening's twilight scene,

Every hour which wisdom brings;

Every incense at thy shrine;

These--and all life's holiest things,

And its fairest--all are thine.

3And for all, my hymns shall rise

Daily to thy gracious throne:

Thither let my asking eyes

Turn unwearied--righteous One!

Through life's strange vicissitude

There reposing all my care,

Trusting still through ill and good,

Fixed and cheered and counselled there.

Reflections at Sunset.

1The mellow eve is gliding

Serenely down the west;

So, every care subsiding,

My soul would sink to rest.

2The woodland hum is ringing

The daylight's gentle close;

May angels round me singing,

Thus hymn my last repose.

3The evening star has lighted

Her crystal lamp on high;

So, when in death benighted,

May hope illume the sky.

4In golden splendor dawning,

The morrow's light shall break;

O, on the last bright morning

May I in glory wake.